Note: first scene rated M for moderate sexual content. I've never written a scene in this way before so I hope it's alright.

A sheen of cooling sweat covered Thomas's forehead, muscles all over his body well worked and now relaxed as he lay on one side in tangled bedsheets that had been pushed down to their feet – tangled amongst Richard's legs also. He let out a content sigh and closed his eyes in the cosy morning light of a Sunday morning. Somewhere beyond the window that had back lit their activities since after dawn, church bells peeled: they were only down the road, but sounded more distant than usual – that being said, anything beyond Richard, him and their bed was a world away.

Richard stroked Thomas's damp dark fringe away from his eyebrow with one finger – that finger had been the start of his most recent pleasure and the thought of it brought a flurry of beats to Thomas's heart. Richard's hand trailed down over his face, caressing his heightened skin all the way over cheek to jaw, to collar bone and neck, down over his shoulders where he stopped his journey on his hip. Thomas stayed still, letting Richard touch him, appreciate him, love him – he'd never tire of that, never. He watched as Richard's bright eyes wondered with his movements. It seemed a tad unfair for Richard though, if he didn't get a little appreciation returned.

Thomas shifted closer, nuzzling his head up under Richard's chin, who was positioned slightly further up the bed than him. Richard turned his head and lowered it a little to allow Thomas access to his lips. Their kisses lingered, each one overlapping the one before, each slow – they had all the time in the world – and full of a loving gentleness that only a lover could give. Thomas sidled up to Richard so they were eye level to each other. He felt his shy smile on his face and Richard must have felt it too for he returned it as they kissed again. Thomas let his hands do some exploring of their own. He reached for Richard's shoulders, still warm from earlier, and reached as far as he could over to the top of his back, where he splayed his hand over Richard's spine. It was with less force, less urgency, but his hand had been there before.

His hand clasped onto Richard's shoulder, his other against the rail of the headboard behind him. Thomas tilted his head back gasping through parted lips. He shifted his hand above his head, touching one of Richard's who supported his thrusting movements within him with both his hands on top of the headboard so it creaked with every movement. Richard, positioned above him, looked down at him in a way that maddened Thomas's senses further. His skin tingled with sensitivity that came in rhythmic bursts as their hot, damp skin caught down at the base of his stomach. Thomas's legs bent further up towards him at the knees, his ankles gripping Richard's buttocks with furthering force. Richard's pace was loving, he'd taken his time with it all, and Thomas loved him for it. How many times in the past had he been expected to roll over and take it quick? The difference was that Richard loved him, they were one so they moved as such.

That being said, the delicious pain of slow love making drove him to the edge of sanity. Thomas tried to speak: he opened his mouth, but lost the ability to say the words. He let out a deep moan instead as Richard altered his angle ever so slightly, removing one hand from the headboard, holding his position instead by one hand next to Thomas's head on the pillow. Thomas tried communicating with movements instead: he squeezed his heels against Richard's behind further, rolled his hips the best he could under Richard's weight. "Rich— Richard...pl-please," he begged with closed eyes that sparked with light, as Richard hit the perfect spot again. "Love...I-I-ne-need—" Richard was playing with him, teasing him and Thomas couldn't decide in his muddled mind whether he loved or hated him for it, all he knew was that he didn't want him to stop, and yet he wanted him to speed up.

His arms tiring, Richard relinquished the support of the headboard and opted for elbows and hands either side of Thomas instead. Thomas took his moment: he slid both hands around Richard's torso, splayed fingers clasping tight, nails digging in that had Richard release a groan. Pleased at his victory, Thomas repeated his action. "God Thomas!" It did the trick. "You want—?" Richard asked as he thrust a little deeper and quicker.

"Yes. Yes!" Thomas didn't hold back in his vocal praise. They were in their own home, the window was closed and, as a bonus, every neighbour was at church.

Richard's weight was almost fully on him now, their chests touching, the roughness around Richard's scar from the bullet that almost killed him, providing the perfect contrast to softer skin. "Love, love," Richard repeated through a rasping tone, his face close to the crook of Thomas's neck. His breath: hot and humid exhilarated Thomas's skin. Richard caught Thomas's lips with his own, capturing their moans so they would be muffled to anyone outside of their pairing. "Thomas, love, Thomas I'm...not long. Thomas..."

"Thomas?"

Thomas blinked.

"You seemed to drift off in a daydream there?" Richard smirked, propping his head up with one hand, elbow in the soft pillow.

Thomas rubbed his eyes with his free hand, the other still clasped Richard's back. "Sorry."

"If you're tired, we've got no rush, nowhere to be...?"

"No, no. I'm not. I don't want to sleep, not when I could be doing other things." Thomas felt his face grow hotter. It was stupid to be coy, considering how he'd been earlier. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking?"

"You know...reliving moments."

Richard nibbed his lip, running the top over the bottom which only added to the heat growing on Thomas's body. "Anything in particular?"

Thomas paused for a moment. He threw himself back onto the bed looking up at the ceiling. "Fine! You taking me just now, I can't stop thinking about it."

"One aims to please," Richard said in an over the top posh accent.

"Oh get off!" Thomas playfully pushed Richard away as he leaned to kiss him.

"I like positive feedback, Mr Barrow."

"Shut up." Thomas breathed heavily looking upwards, feeling Richard's eyes keenly watching him, waiting. He was annoyingly good, but he'd keep the compliment to himself. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, it's mid morning, we have a bit of time until my parents arrive. We could get washed up, get dressed, have breakfast, you never know if you hurry Mr Barrow, you might even make the rest of the vicar's Sunday service – I heard the hymns he has chosen today are particularly rousing."

Thomas slapped him again. "Shut up," he repeated amongst a giggle he failed to suppress. "I have a better plan anyway."

"Oh?" Richard raised an eyebrow but otherwise pretended to be uninterested.

"I want to have you."

Richard couldn't fake his disinterest anymore. "Really? You're not too worn out from..."

"Not unless you are?" A little wave of self doubt blew over Thomas. "Unless you'd rather do something else? Get up?"

"These types of Sunday mornings don't come often...unlike you of course!"

Thomas burst out laughing at Richard's innuendo, that reminded him of something Larry would say. He sat up in a sudden movement and pushed Richard backwards into the mattress, leaning over him in a similar mirror position to earlier on. "You asked for it!"

"You offered?"

"Smart-arse."

"True, but Thomas, can I ask?" Richard's face grew redder and Thomas felt him stur beneath him. "You okay with being quick?"

Thomas's breath hitched. "Are you?"

"Oh yes. Anyway, minutes tick by and my parents will be here in an hour or so."

"Ever practical."

"It's the best excuse I could think of."

Thomas reached down to Richard's thigh, his leg – the one not trapped under Thomas – had already bent upwards. "Eager?" Thomas suggested, smoothing his hand down to Richard's knee then up the inside of his leg. "You need no excuse and I for one have been looking forward to some control," he said, his voice low and dripping with suggestion. His hand continued upwards. Richard sucked in a deep breath, tilting his head back with closed eyes. Thomas decided privately that some of this he'd like to take his time with. He repositioned himself, allowing himself better access to Richard, who obediently bent up his other knee, clearly growing impatient. Thomas continued with the gentlest of touches at his entrance, but left Richard alone to tease him further, planting soft kisses on his chest, neck then mouth – the latter of which Richard grasped with neediness.

"Thomas," Richard breathed. "I thought we agreed—?"

"You said nothing about being quick beforehand, and you'll like it better, you know that."

"Mmm...yes I know, but just get your hand back down there," he garbled.

"Yes sir," Thomas mocked. He positioned himself between his legs, teasing him further.

A floorboard creaked. They'd let Wilde out earlier.

Another creak accompanied by a squeak from the hinges Thomas had been meaning to get around to oil for weeks.

Thomas smiled down at Richard, who looked as though he'd come undone at any moment with his desperation for Thomas to enter him. Thomas looked to his side to reach for the small jar of Vaseline when his eyes met at the door, not with their nosy cat Wilde, but none other than Richard's own mother, Marion.

"Oh!" Marion gasped, abruptly turning around.

Thomas hurtled off Richard who in his state of neediness took longer to register that his mother was at the door.

"Shit," Thomas cursed.

"Mum?"

"Is he still lying around in bed?" they heard John, Richard's father call out further down the hallway as he too approached. Thomas thought this couldn't possibly get worse. "He's not sixteen still Marion, I'll wake him up."

The toe of John's shoe appeared in view, but Marion saw to it her husband went no further. Reaching out and pushing him back down the hallway. "We're going for a walk John, by the river."

"What? But we only just got here?"

Thomas exchanged a look with Richard, who had gone bright red. He had pulled a tangled sheet up to cover himself. Thomas was crouched out of view from his parents and the bedroom door, on the far side of the bed by the floor.

"We could see if the daffodils are out yet."

"That's stupid, they aren't and you know it."

"Turn around John," Marion instructed. A shuffling noise mixed with her husband's complaints, made Thomas think she was literally manhandling him to turn and go back down the corridor. "Richard is still in bed, Thomas too."

"Well they're as bad as each other. I never lay around in bed on my days off. Too much I could be doing," John huffed, not getting the message Thomas knew Marion was subtly trying to point out.

"Thomas and Richard are in bed...together," she repeated.

A moment of silence followed. "Oh." John cleared his throat. Richard glanced at Thomas, initial awkwardness replaced with amusement, his eyes beginning to twinkle. "Oh...right. Yes...that will explain it." Footsteps left quickly after that. "Richard did tell us not to come too early."

"Now you see why."

Once the door closed, Richard cracked a smile and hid his eyes in his face. "Why can't they arrive on time and not early for once? Thomas, I'm so sorry."

Thomas peaked between the curtains at the window, keeping only his head visible at the window just in case they weren't the only ones to skip church that morning. He listened for the click of the door downstairs and waited until he saw Richard's parents step outside and cross the street. Satisfied, returned to the bed, flopped down heavily and pulled a sheet over himself as he sat with his back to Richard.

Richard's weight shifted on the mattress as he came to kneel behind him, soothing warm hands massaging his shoulders, his treatment only interrupted by gentle kisses on his skin. "Nothing to worry about. Awkward yes – it seems no matter what our age, it's still awfully embarrassing to be caught together by one's parents. Don't dwell on it Thomas, okay?"

Thomas sighed and nodded his head. "I know. Sorry." He shuffled around to face Richard, greeted by the breath-taking sight of his partner sitting naked, hair tousled, skin tanned and alive, bright eyes reading him like an open book. Thomas allowed himself to drink in the sight before him, his eyes roaming shamelessly all over him. "How did they even get inside? You locked up last night right?"

"I did but I let Wilde out early this morning. It slipped my mind to lock it again." Richard gave Thomas a knowing look. "I never remembered on the account of you creeping up behind me and pushing me up against the kitchen table and falling to your knees in front of me. Mr Barrow, you can be the biggest distraction."

"I was impatient. Sorry."

"No. Not sorry. If there was a mistake it wasn't your timing or impatience. It was both of us, but anyway it doesn't matter now."

"It could have been anyone. What if someone at Downton wondered why I wasn't at church and came to find me or—"

"Thomas," Richard said firmly, squeezing his knee. "My parents, no one else."

Thomas felt another apology hanging on his lips but kept it from escaping. "How can I face them again?"

"They'll be as embarrassed , I assure you."

"Yeah." The clock ticked in the background between their silence. "I'd like to pick up from where we left off but..."

"The moment's gone?" Richard guessed.

"Yeah. Shame."

"Again it's not a problem. We have the rest of our lives together Thomas. Plenty more time for you to have your way with me," Richard said with a wink. "I suggest we get up, get washed and freshened up." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sauntered over to the table near the window where he'd left a glass of water. He then took his time looking for clothes in the wardrobe. Thomas swallowed hard as he watched Richard's every move. "You fancy joining me or are you too busy looking?" Richard asked from near the door, back turned. "I can feel your eyes following me everywhere."

"Can you blame me?" Thomas said, his private thoughts coming out loud.

...

Thomas stood at the top of the stairs and listened. He took a single step down and listened again, straining his ears for any sound of Marion or John. They'd returned just over an hour after they'd first arrived. Richard had gone down to greet them, allowing Thomas to avoid most of the initial awkwardness. He and his father John, had gone outside into the garden. Their home had been quiet since and Thomas hoped Marion had joined them, so he could at least fetch some food in peace. He took another step, then another, making sure to avoid the parts of the stairs he knew would creak in alarm. At the bottom he held his breath and listened, getting distinct flashbacks to any time he'd snuck out of, or back into Downton after a illicit night out with men he'd never speak to or see again. He peered into the kitchen, looking and listening for signs of movement.

Nothing.

Satisfied he entered the room and jumped out of his skin when he saw Marion standing reaching into a cupboard, her head hidden from view by the open door. "Sorry...I err...I thought you were outside." He looked down at his shoes.

"I was making us some tea. Thomas tell me something?" she began.

"Okay?" Thomas's heart raced.

"Where does my son keep the spare teabags? There's none in the pot."

"Oh...um...It's the other door, other side of the cupboard." He opened the other door, thankful to find something for his fidgeting hands to do.

"Ah yes." She pulled out the box and set about refilling the metal tin they kept the teabags on the counter in. "It shouldn't be allowed to run empty," she said, almost to herself.

"Err...no." Thomas couldn't take this any longer. "Marion, about earlier...I'm sorry you had to...had to see—"

"Thomas dear, don't fret. It was our fault. I thought Richard told us not to come before eleven because he wanted time to tidy up, I didn't think that it was because..."

"No you wouldn't."

"Well I should have considered the possibility." She filled the kettle and put it onto the stove to boil.

"What?"

"I should have put two and two together: you had the morning free, and you're a couple Thomas – we hardly expect you to keep yourselves at arm's length from each other now, do we?"

Thomas felt himself staring at her. He abruptly shifted his gaze to the floor, then decided focusing on the kettle would be best. Conversations with Richard's parents about subjects like these completely dumbfounded him. Just when he'd got used to their acceptance of them both, they'd surprise him again. It was impossible to relate to anyone else. Outside of their friends, he never dared to raise the subject, not even to Phyllis – at least not in the same way. "But...even though you saw...?"

"I worked as a nurse for many years, Thomas. I've seen most parts of the human body, male and female."

"But not in this way."

"No, but we're both still standing aren't we? The world hasn't ended." She squeezed his arm, looking up at him with a motherly kind smile. "Now, how about you finish the tea and I'll sort you and Richard some breakfast – I take it you haven't eaten yet? I imagine you must both have quite the appetite?"

"We haven't and um..." Thomas blushed. "We do."

"And don't you worry about John. I know he can be a tease, but Richard bore the brunt of that – he's used to it – and I told him not to say anything to embarrass you."

Thomas fetched four cups and caught sight of Richard and his father out in the garden. Richard was pointing to something in the flower border where the roses would eventually bloom in the spring. He let Marion fuss over him as he let it sink in how easy, how simple it could be to be a couple around the right people.

The kettle whistled.

So easy.

Note: I didn't expect to update this soon, so I hope it was a nice surprise! Next update will be a little longer in coming though as I'm going away this coming week.